Chapter Four

Birds twittered to each other in the nearby trees, leaping from branch to branch or fluttering through the air in search of food or companionship. Some of their songs were cheerful and bright while others were haunting, like the look in that construction worker’s eyes. Rain tried not to picture him, but the weight of Mist’s words had forced his image into her mind, and she couldn’t help but wonder what her friend had meant by what she’d stated earlier, that the man shouldn’t be blamed for whatever had brought him to that position in life. Who else was there that should be held accountable? Shouldn’t all men be held responsible for what they had done, collectively as a sex, to women throughout history?

A twig snapped beneath her feet, bringing her back to the woods around her, and a squirrel darted across the path in front of Mist. The Mothers said wildlife was coming back in abundance now that so many girls were choosing to become naturists. They hoped that someday there would be thousands of squirrels, rabbits, and other forest creatures as there had been in days of old, before the war.

After a few more moments of walking, they stepped into a clearing. A quick look around revealed that Rain did know the place after all, but they’d never approached from this direction before. She wondered why Mist hadn’t brought her in the usual way but did not ask. Several tall, older trees stood sentinel around the perimeter of the clearing with new growth springing up beyond them, and off in the distance stood the ruins of a burned down dwelling.

The house had been here for hundreds of years, Rain supposed. Based on the remains, she’d done some architectural research years ago when she and Mist had first stumbled upon it, and she was of the opinion it was likely built a hundred years or more before the Claiming of Power. The timbers were charred in black residue, scarred from time, weather, and whatever had started the fire. She imagined it had been taken down in one of the attacks of WWIII. The area now known as Michaelanburg had been part of a country called the United States back then. All of the girls learned about the US in their history classes, how it was one of the most powerful nations in the world until the men’s greed brought it tumbling down. WWIII had not been kind to the country, and then when the men were at their weakest, Michaela and her followers had launched their attack, eventually claiming power, ending men’s reign and creating this new country out of the remains of the old.

There were other places in what used to be the United States that were occupied, but Rain had heard none of them were organized into governments the way Michaelanburg was. The war had taken its toll for certain. Whole cities were destroyed during the bombing. In fact, so much of the world was devastated, only a handful of nations had survived. While Michaela had tried to organize similar movements in the bigger nations--places called China, Russia, France, and the United Kingdom, to name a few--she hadn’t been successful. Those nations that survived the war limped along, trying their best to reinstate themselves in the world, to rebuild what had been lost, but it was Rain’s understanding that so much had been destroyed during the war the world would likely never be the same.

In Michaelanburg, it was a welcome thought as they were certain if men in other nations ever heard of the justice being meted out here, they would attempt to move on the country and take power away from the Mothers, proclaiming they were “liberating men held captive against their will.” Rain shuddered at the thought of an invasion from a foreign power as she followed Mist through the high grass, running her fingers through the brambles. They certainly learned of the importance of keeping the Motherhood strong in every class they attended, and the Grand-Mothers especially were quick to remind them that should any outside nation attempt to raise arms against Michaelanburg, the girls must do all they can to protect their way of life. Luckily, there were large swaths of destroyed land, oceans, mountains, and other barriers to protect the country on nearly every side. So long as the planet did not recover from the horrors of war, their nation should be safe.

Mist walked over to a spot near the burned down house and stopped next to a pile of fallen timbers. “Here,” she said, pointing at the ground. “I was looking around earlier and sat down on this log.”

Rain stepped up beside her, rested her hands on her hips and waited for her to continue.

“Sit,” Mist insisted.

With an arched eyebrow, Rain sank down onto the log. “Okay….”

“And I was about to get up and head home when I noticed a glint on the ground… to my right.”

Rain turned her head that direction, but she didn’t see anything. “A glint?”

“Yeah, the sun must’ve been catching it just right because I’ve never noticed it before,” Mist said, climbing over the log and stepping over to where she had indicated Rain should look. She brushed aside some debris and branches, but Rain still didn’t see anything. “Come here.”

With a sigh, Rain pulled herself up off of the log, hoping this didn’t turn out to be a waste of time. If it was a button or a penny or something….

But it wasn’t. As soon as Rain stood up, she saw it. A shiny piece of metal protruded from the ground. They must’ve played her a thousand times over the years, run around the burned out dwelling, climbed trees on the perimeter. She’d never seen it before, but it was obvious it had been there for longer than the girls had been alive, longer than Michaelanburg had existed.

Taking cautious steps over, Rain stopped, her eyes glued to the shimmering object. She knew immediately what it was, but she had to ask. “Is that a… handle.”

“Yes,” Mist assured her, and brushing away a bit more dirt with the toe of her sneaker, she continued. “And this is… a door.”